


Bad Enough

by Oddoneout



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Apprentice (mentioned) - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Crush, also there are leeches, julian's plague is showing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddoneout/pseuds/Oddoneout
Summary: As the plague rages on and so many are dead, Julian hasn't a moment to rest. The world needs him to find a cure, even if he works himself to the bone while doing so. Thankfully, he has Asra to lighten his load.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Bad Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renjames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjames/gifts).



> Title is stolen from the song, "Burning Up" by Marianas Trench. Hope you enjoy this little scribble! :) And of course, happy birthday to the talented renjames! :D

Even in the soft candlelight, Julian’s eyes burned. He had not slept in days, always working, always researching, always seeing the burnt body of the dead in the darkness of the shadows. The smell was worse, sickly sweet and prickling, the smell of scorched meat. Julian now understood why Asra didn’t eat meat.

He buried his head under his arms with a groan. Nausea swirled behind the bridge of his nose, an all-encompassing sickness born of hunger and exhaustion. Chills tore through his whole body, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself. He was coming down with something, he knew – he didn’t dare hope it wasn’t the plague. Catching the plague in such a crucial moment would be just his luck.

“You’re still here.”

Julian flinched at Asra’s quiet voice.

“You know me.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Duty is my middle name.” It was hard to spin things as a joke when everything was so deadly serious. Asra leaned against the desk. He seemed tired, his eyes marred by dark circles.

Julian had of course heard about his apprentice; remembered him too. He was a nice boy, a talented magician – although matters of magic always rubbed Julian the wrong way. Leeches he could understand, magic… Not so much. All the more power to the apprentice.

Maybe that was why Asra couldn’t forget about him, Julian thought bitterly. Out loud, he said, “And you came back,” and he made sure that his hope didn’t waver in his voice.

“You borrowed my mandrake roots.”

“Oh. Erm, yes, I remember, I—” Looking around on the table, Julian knocked over an overboiled concoction that spilled on the book, sullying the gilded pages. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up, just—Give me a moment, I—” More hustling and bustling only produced more messes, but at least he finally found the mandrake roots, presenting them to Asra with an overblown flourish. “Here you go, sir!”

Asra stared at him.

“Your eyes…”

Julian slapped a hand over his right eye, the one that had been burning the most miserably. Asra’s stricken face could only mean one thing: Julian had the plague, and it was showing.

“Don’t worry about me,” he waved while trying to inch away from Asra. Asra was the last person he wanted to infect.

“I don’t want you dead, Ilya.”

“Uh, thank you, that’s—nice of you.” Trust Julian to find the most awkward response in every social situation. Yet Asra’s eyes softened.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” he asked.

Julian glanced at his open stack of books; in one of them, there might be the cure. He couldn’t rest now, just when he was on the cusp of a break-through, a fantastic revelation—He couldn’t rest now when so many lives depended on him. Asra seemed to read his thoughts because he stepped closer.

Julian recoiled.

“Stay where you are! I cannot let you catch this plague!”

Asra pursed his lips.

“Alright then. You would have had the amazing opportunity to have me by your side while you rest, but if not…” His voice lilted higher, anticipating some form of protest, and Julian, being the predictable man he was, stammered, “Uh, that—I—That’s not, I’m not—”. Finally, his admission drowned in a whisper, “That’d be… nice.”

Asra looked decidedly smug. “Well then.”

“Just—stay a safe distance away,” Julian warned him, curling up on the luxurious silk pillows that lay strewn about everywhere in the library, usually serving Asra’s comfort. Asra situated himself on another such cushion some distance away. With a hiss, Faust peeked out from his shirt, swiftly slithering around his arm. She blinked at Julian.

Julian blinked back, his mouth twisting into a sleepy smile. The jittery energy coursing through his body has slowly dissipated and all it left was the aching exhaustion of the sickness. Asra watched him, his curious eyes ablaze by the candlelight.

“What?” he asked with a faint smile.

Being a scientist, Julian always had a great many questions to ask about any topic that presented itself, but now, in the midst of all this death and destruction, only one question nagged at his mind.

“Do you miss him?”

There was no need for him to clarify who he was talking of. Asra looked down at his hands, the hands that might have reached for the apprentice’s body too late and could grasp only ashes.

“In every waking moment. Like an open wound,” he murmured.

Julian nodded. The follow-up question – “Could you ever learn to love again?” –, he bit back. Having Asra watch over him was more than enough—more than what he dreamed of, more than what he deserved.

“Ilya,” Asra said, “you’ll never fall asleep if you don’t close your eyes.”

Julian obeyed with a smile, letting his eyes fall shut. It was an unfamiliar sensation, having anybody care about him—but at the end of the line, Asra cared, and that was enough, having those curious violet eyes on him. Julian murmured, “Thanks for staying.”

“Take care of yourself, Ilya.” Asra’s voice seemed to echo in the darkness. “You can’t cure anyone if you don’t take care of yourself first.” And the truth of his words resonated with weight on the edge of Julian’s dreams.


End file.
